


Making Hearts

by Little_Octopus



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 06:46:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11225520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Octopus/pseuds/Little_Octopus
Summary: Alfred has a heart condition that can only be treated. One day, he has a concerning accident and heart transplant is his only option. While waiting for a new heart, Alfred befriends his intern surgeon. Though Arthur is a very gifted surgeon, he doubts that just being Alfred's doctor will mend his heart.





	1. Chapter 1

Making Hearts  
Chapter One

Alfred had been a patient at Sego Lily Memorial Hospital for what felt like forever. He remembered his first visit like it was yesterday, even though it was a good ten years ago.

He had finally made the football team that his city put together. It took him longer than he liked because he just couldn't keep up with the other kids. But he made it. And it wasn't out of pity. That year he had worked his butt off and finally made it. At their first game, his coach put him in as quarterback. Everyone was there. His parents, grandparents from both sides, not to mention the majority of the neighbourhood, but most important of all was Jenny. Alfred had the biggest crush on her and he was out to impress. 

He had gotten the ball in his hands and made a beeline for the end zone. He pumped his legs as hard as he could. He knew Jenny was watching, so he didn't look back, that would make it too obvious. He dodged and spun out of the way, years of practice finally being put to use.

Just as he was about to reach the painted grass and score his first touchdown ever, his heart broke. Not as in shattered, it just stopped. It was only for a moment, but what a long moment it was. Alfred didn't remember what happened after his heart broke, but he did remember waking up in the ambulance with a mask over his mouth and his chest felt like the entire other team was sitting on it. Not to mention the killer headache. He had closed his eyes at the time, figuring he had been pelted and knocked unconscious for a few.

However, at the hospital, they had a different reason. “Congestive heart failure.” Alfred had stared blankly while his parents clung to each other, tears in their eyes. The doctor explained that Alfred's heart did not pump blood as well as it should. Explaining his weakened state when it came to sports, and his passing out when he ran so hard.

Alfred, always looking for a bright side had thrown his hands in the air. “Can't you guys just fix it?”

“I'm afraid that it can only be treated, not healed. An LVAD machine would keep you here. Best we can do is get you stable and watch you closely. We'll put your name on the transplant list, but that could take years.”

Another doctor spoke. “We can release you, but you must take it easy. Don't do anything that requires heavy physical activity.”

His parents promised that Alfred would stay inside, away from football and any other sport.

But Alfred wasn't one to listen. So, here he was in his hospital pajamas being wheeled to his new room. It's new because he was now old enough to leave pediatrics. He would miss the bubbly nurses and the colorful walls, but going to the grown-up rooms is what happens when you're twenty-two and try to run just a little harder on the treadmill. At least he had gotten a nice nurse this time.

“You should take me back to the pediatric room. I fit in much better there.” Alfred grinned at the nurse from his wheelchair.

“You may act like a child, but their equipment is much too small for you.” The nurse patted Alfred’s shoulder. “And you'll meet some new people. I know how you love giving them a hard time.”

Alfred laughed. “It's always fun watching them freakout. Especially when I tell them how to do their job.”

“Just be nice to the interns.” The nurse helped him into the boring bed with gray blankets. She rearranged his wires that attached to his heart monitor. “Rounds are in a few. Make sure to impress.”

“Don't I always?” Alfred waved as the nurse left. He settled back into his pillows and took in his surroundings. He figured he would be here a few days. Enough time for them to run their tests and tell him what he already knew and remind him to take it easy, then allow him the honor of telling him they have yet to locate a new heart for him. Same old same old.

“Morning, Alfred!”

Alfred turned and quickly patted his golden hair. “Don't look, Francis! I'm not ready!”

Francis is Alfred’s heart surgeon. He had performed every procedure Alfred had since he was twelve. Francis had been an intern when Alfred first arrived at the hospital and had been his doctor ever since. Now Francis was the head of cardiovascular surgeries.

The blond doctor chuckled and went to stand by Alfred’s side. “You know your hair never obeys so why do you bother?”

“I just want to look good for all these new people!” Alfred spread his hands to the interns that had followed Francis like a mother duck. Alfred scanned them over. They were old interns, almost to their residency. He had learned to tell the difference, it was in their eyes.

Another chuckle from Francis. “Well-”

“Oh, wait. Can I say it? Please?” Alfred said.

“You're twenty-two, isn't begging a little below you?” Francis teased. Alfred just grinned and Francis waved at Alfred to continue.

The patient faced the confused interns. “Who is presenting?”

The baby surgeons all glanced at each other before a blond began to speak. He had wonderfully bright hair compared to the drab walls, along with beautiful green eyes, he also had a British accent.

“Alfred Jones, admitted this morning with Congestive Heart Failure. Is on the transplant list and refuses LVAD treatment,” the blond said, without once looking at Alfred’s chart.

“Very good, Kirkland. What are the courses of treatment?” Francis said.

“Medications include an ACE inhibitor to  
relax the blood vessels, an antihypertensive drug which lowers blood pressure. We can also use a vasodilator to help widen blood vessels. Or simple heart medication to help reduce chest pain or pressure caused by blockages in the arteries of the heart,” Kirkland rambled off.

Alfred nodded. No one had ever named so many medication options at once. Usually one intern would state one then another would pipe up with another. It was impressive. “What if none of those work?”

“Then surgery or if it is serious enough, you would be bumped to the top of the transplant list,” the intern said smoothly, his eyes locked on Alfred.

“What if the heart doesn't come in time?” Alfred countered.

Kirkland raised an eyebrow and Alfred suddenly noticed how large they were. It was actually kind of adorable. “Did the heart fail to reach you before or after you were put under for the surgery?”

Throughou. Impressive. “After.”

Before he could open his mouth to answer, Francis raised his hand. “Sorry, Alfred. We have other rounds to get to. Kirkland, you're with Alfred until he is discharged. Take good care of him or the whole hospital will be on your ass.”

Alfred laughed as everyone shuffled out besides Kirkland. “He's right you know. I'm this hospital's best customer.”

“That's hardly something to be proud of,” Kirkland murmured, looking at the folder Francis had left for him.

“Maybe but I like to think of myself as special,” Alfred said.

“How come you don't use the LVAD, if I may ask?” Kirkland set the folder down and pulled out his stethoscope. 

Knowing the drill, Alfred sat up straight and took a deep breath in. The metal was cold against his chest, but the doctor's fingers were warm. As he let his breath out, Alfred replied. “I'd be more restrained than I am now.”

“It's not that bad.” Kirkland jotted something down in the folder and took hold of Alfred's wrist, watching the clock.

“Just not my style,” Alfred said as Kirkland wrote more stuff down.

“What's your name?” Alfred asked after a moment.

“Dr. Kirkland.”

Alfred rolled his eyes. “First name. No one is ‘doctor’ while I'm around.”

The blond raised his green eyes, letting them rest on Alfred's rather pathetic state of loose pajamas, pale skin, skinny arms and multiple tubes going into his body.

“Arthur,” Kirkland said, closing his folder. “I'll be back in a while.”

“Have fun!” Alfred waved as Arthur left the room.

It was strange, most interns were usually a lot more easy-going. Arthur seemed to be harder to crack. Alfred smiled to himself. He always liked a challenge.

¤

Alfred's mother was a mess, per usual to hear he was in the hospital. Again.

She came in the room and hugged Alfred tightly, causing him chest pains, but he swallowed it. He didn't want to hurt his mother anymore than he already had.

After puttering about her son, she took his chart from the end of the bed and began reading. That was when Arthur returned.

“Ma'am, you can't read that,” the blond said, obviously confused as to why this pudgy lady was reading his patient's chart.

“You must be Arthur Kirkland,” Alfred's mother said, pointing to a line on the chart. “I'm Al’s mother, you can call me Peggy.”

Alfred waved from his spot on the bed. “Don't bother telling her what not to do, she'll do it anyway.”

“So if I tell her to do something, she won't?” Arthur wasn't much of a joker so he flashed his best smile to calm the rather serious looking mother.

Alfred laughed loudly, which sent him into a coughing fit and a great deal of wincing. Arthur frowned and placed his stethoscope against Alfred's chest to listen to him breath.

“You really shouldn't do that,” Arthur murmured, taking the folder from Peggy's outstretched hand.

“I know, but I can't help it.” Alfred closed his eyes at the doctor's soft touch. It was actually quite soothing.

“He's always been loud,” Peggy scolded gently.

“We'll have to fix that. We are in a hospital, after all.” Arthur patted Alfred's shoulder. He jotted down more notes and handed the folder back to Peggy. “I'm on call tonight, so if you need anything, have the nurses page me.”

“Okay.” Alfred smiled and waved. “Don't work too hard.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “I'll try not to.”

Closing the door behind him, Arthur walked to the nurse's station for his next patient. As he was reading over the charts, a shadow blocked out the words. He allowed a small smile to his lips as a hand slid across his waist discreetly under his lab coat.

“What are you doing?” Francis asked nonchalantly.

Arthur turned the charts to the resident surgeon. “Just finishing up my rounds. Do you need me for something, Doctor?”

“Meet me in on-call room three in ten minutes,” Francis breathed, barely loud enough for Arthur to hear.

With a minute nod, Arthur took off for his next patient, determined to get his rounds done first. However, he was blindsided by a little brunet.

“What was with all the whispering?” Arthur's best friend and rival, Feliciano, said. He had his hands on his scrubs clad hips and his fawn eyes narrowed.

“Nothing.” Arthur blushed and rearranged the charts in his arms.

Feliciano gasped. “You're going to get laid!”

“Keep it down!” Arthur hissed, freeing an arm to smack his friend's shoulder.

“Totally unfair you're sleeping with the head of cardio,” Feliciano groaned as Arthur walked away.

“Yes, I know. That's why you are the only one to know,” Arthur said with a pointed look.

“Don't give me that.” Feliciano grinned. “I'm only keeping it secret because you know mine.”

“There's hardly anything to your secret, you haven't even slept with him.” Arthur rolled his eyes.

“We've had drinks! Were practically dating!” Feliciano said.

“Just drinks?” Arthur quirked a rather impressive eyebrow.

“And some heavy-”

“Heavy what, Dr. Vargas?” A rough voice interrupted them. Tall, blond and intimidating, attending neurosurgeon, Dr. Ludwig Beilschmidt stood in front of the two interns.

Feliciano practically melted at Ludwig’s feet. The two had been going out for about a month, though only Arthur knew. Ludwig was a very reserved and respected doctor, he was fair to all his interns and had the most successful surgeries of all other neurosurgeons at Sego Lily Memorial.

If the Head of Surgery or any other doctors, including attendings, residents or interns, found out Ludwig and Feliciano (not to mention Arthur and Francis) had been hooking up, there would be serious hell to pay. Though dating within the surgical staff was not prohibited, the attendings and residents were in charge of the interns. If word got out, they could get fired for favoring an intern and even sexual harassment.

“A heavy load of rounds.” Arthur shoved his charts into Feliciano's arms. “You got this for me?”

“What!” Feliciano snapped out of his (dirty) thoughts as Arthur walked down the hall. “Arthur!”

“Thanks, Feliciano! I owe you one!” Arthur waved as he rounded the corner and headed to on-call room three.

Arthur knocked twice, waited a heartbeat then knocked again. He heard the door unlock and he slid inside. They had created the knock after Feliciano walked in on Arthur sprawled across the bed in nothing but his lab coat. That was the day the two had become close friends.

“You're late,” Francis said. Though his words hinted that he was upset, his tone suggested he was more upset with his boner not being taken care of in a timely matter.

“Sorry, Feliciano started talking to me.” Arthur let himself be backed against the wall. He pouted most adorably at Francis as he ran his fingertips down the resident’s chest.

“Because of him, this will have to be quick.” Francis was already grinding against Arthur.

There was nothing romantic about what they did. Arthur enjoyed it nonetheless, but there was something off. Especially when Francis would whisper sweetly in his ear as they lay tangled together, lingering in their moment before one was pulled away to fulfill their duties as a doctor.

Arthur wasn't sure if it felt odd doing these things with Francis because he wasn’t in love with him, or because he was.

*I know speedy Arthur-Francis relationship but that's the best way to describe what it is. All medical knowledge is based on Grey's Anatomy and Google. If it's not real medicine, bring it up with Shonda Rhimes. Loosely based off Denny if you've seen Grey's.*


	2. Chapter 2

Making Hearts  
Chapter Two

Arthur combed his fingers through his hair, trying to make it look less like he just had sex. Not that his hair wasn't usually a mess anyway, he just felt like people would be able to tell the difference from his usual mop.

He stopped at the nurse’s station to check on his non-critical patients. After determining no one was going to die, he went to check on Alfred.

Arthur was in his fourth year of interning. After this year, he would be a resident and have to start choosing his specialty. Unlike most med students, however, Arthur already knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to be a cardiovascular surgeon. There was just something about holding a heart that gave him a thrill. It amazed him at how such a small organ could be the life of someone. After every successful heart surgery, Arthur felt like he was on top of the world. However, just repairing a heart flawlessly was nothing compared to his first heart transplant. God did he and Francis have great sex that day.

Arthur knocked softly on Alfred's door before walking in. The patient was asleep, a football game buzzing softly on the T.V..

Switching off the telly, Arthur checked Alfred's vitals. He hummed softly as he worked.

“Someone's in a good mood.”

Arthur jumped, about losing the chart in his hands. Alfred laughed, which sent him into a coughing fit.

“Easy,” Arthur soothed. He calmed himself and took his stethoscope from around his neck. “Did I wake you?”

“Nah. Having trouble sleeping,” Alfred rubbed at his chest. His pajama top revealed just the tip of the scar Arthur knew was there. “Chest hurts.”

Arthur furrowed his brow. “How long has it been hurting?”

“About an hour,” Alfred closed his eyes in a grimace.

“Okay, can you sit up for me?” Arthur moved to Alfred’s side and helped him lean forward. They didn't get very far.

Alfred yelled out in pain before going slack in Arthur's arms. His breathing was fast and hot on Arthur's neck.

“Nurse! I need a nurse!” Arthur laid Alfred on his back and lowered the bed flat. He slapped the blue button that alerted the nurses to bring a crash cart and leaned over Alfred. Terrified blue eyes stared at him. “It's okay. They'll bring Francis. You'll be fine.”

Alfred nodded once before his heart monitor started screaming a flat line. Arthur quickly started chest compressions.

Two nurses along with Francis ran into the room. 

“What happened?” Francis shouted. He tore Alfred's gown down to his navel.

“I don't know! He was coughing and-”

“Get out of the way,” Francis shouldered Arthur to the foot of the bed. Francis all but yanked the paddles from the nurse as he yelled ‘clear!’ hardly giving anyone time to yank their hands back.

Alfred jerked and settled back down. Francis paused and watched the heart monitor. Arthur held his breath; Francis was waiting too long. Francis looked at the nurse and told her to charge the paddles at a higher level. He pushed the paddles back to Alfred's chest. 

Alfred jumped and everyone held their breath. Finally, the monitor beeped. Francis let out a breath and handed the paddles to the nurse.

“What happened?” he asked again.

Arthur shook himself before wrapping his arms close to his chest. “I don't know. I came in and he was fine. He said his chest hurt and he was, uh. He was-” Arthur paused. He couldn't think. He only had seen two patient deaths and each one had left him shaken.

“He was what, Kirkland?” Francis snapped.

“Hey, go easy on the pretty intern,” Alfred said weakly.

Francis spun on his heel, relief on his face. “Your heart stopped,” his voice was a lot more gentle than it was with Arthur.

Alfred, who was already pale, had an ashy color to him now. “You got it going again?”

“I did. You're lucky Arthur was here.” Francis cast a brief glance to the intern. “Alfred, I'm afraid I have to get in there. Your chest was hurting, correct? Couldn't breath?”

Alfred nodded.

“Sounds like something is wrong. I'm going to have to open you up. Get me an OR and close the gallery,” Francis told the people around him.

“What are you going to do? Throw another patch on?” Alfred said. He sounded defeated, like he knew his heart was almost finished.

Francis sighed. “It's all we can do until your new heart comes. At least you can leave the hospital after this surgery. For a little while.”

Alfred dragged a hand down his face. Arthur then noticed he was sweating. “Fine. What other choice do I have if I want to leave?”

“I'm sorry, Al. The next time you come in, it will be for a new heart,” Francis patted Alfred's shoulder.

“Promise?” A weak grin took over Alfred's face.

“You know I can't promise anything,” Francis said. He half-smiled and turned to Arthur. “Prep Alfred for surgery.”

Arthur followed Francis from the room, only to have his arm in a deadlock.

“What. Happened?” Francis ground out through clenched teeth.

“I went to check on him after…” he trailed off, hoping Francis would get the hint. “He started complaining about chest pains, then he started coughing and he passed out.”

Francis released Arthur and shook his head. The cardio surgeon dug his hands into his hair and mumbled to himself.

“Did I miss something?” Arthur asked meekly. He hated sounding so weak, but he was afraid for Alfred, and his job.

“No. He's just deteriorating far faster than I thought,” Francis let out a large puff of air. “Go get Alfred ready. We have less time than I thought.”

Arthur felt his heart catch before rushing to the surgical prep station.

¤

“Have you called my mom?” Alfred asked as he fidgeted with the hair net.

“She's on her way,” Arthur said from Alfred’s feet.

“Can we wait until she gets here?” Alfred sounded extremely young, nothing like his twenty-one year old self.

Arthur glanced at Francis who gave a single shake of his head. They were running on borrowed time. “I'm sorry, Alfred. We can't.”

Alfred nodded, though tears were now clouding his brilliant blue eyes. “Tell her, I never should have bought that treadmill,” He swallowed thickly and gripped his sheets. His knuckles were white. “And that I love her.”

They had reached the red line. All family was left behind at these doors. It was a completely sterile place. Once they pushed Alfred through, he would go under.

Arthur squeezed Alfred’s knee. “You tell her yourself.”

Alfred grinned. “Just promise me you'll tell her. I know you can promise me that much.”

“I promise,” Arthur whispered.

“Alright,” Alfred looked up at Francis. “I'm ready.”

Francis nodded and the bed continued forward. The anesthesiologist placing a mask over Alfred's face. He was told to count backwards from twenty.

Alfred began counting, but caught sight of Arthur. Even with his hair pulled back into a scrub cap, he was still attractive.

“I'm glad,” Alfred breathed in deeply, forgetting his numbers. “The last face I'll probably see is yours Arthur,” he blinked slowly. “You're so pretty.”

Arthur blushed and looked down the hallway as they brought Alfred to the OR.

¤

“It's the drugs, don't feel too flattered,” Francis said. His arms were lathered with soap to his elbows.

“What?” Arthur asked. He was cleaning his nails with a little pick, though there wasn't much to clean out. He washed his hands almost constantly.

“Alfred called you pretty,” Francis looked at Arthur. “He was high on drugs. Don't think too much of it.”

Arthur smirked and threw his pick away. “Are you jealous?”

“No. I'm just stating a fact,” Francis said. He rinsed his arms.

“I could have deciphered that myself, thanks,” Arthur slipped his face mask on and grabbed a scrub brush.

Francis sighed. “Don't get romantically involved with the patients. It gets messy.”

“You could say the same with attendings.” Arthur replied, not looking up from his hands.

After a moment of awkward silence between them, Francis went into the OR. Arthur let out a shuddering breath and followed after rinsing his arms.

“How is he?” Francis asked as a scrub nurse snapped his gloves on.

“Heart rate stable. He's out and ready to go,” the anesthesiologist, a large man with dark mocha skin, said from Alfred's head.

“Great.” After the scrub nurse tied off the surgical gown, Francis stood at Alfred's left side. “Arthur,I need you on the other side to retract. Where's the resident?”

“I'm here, Dr. Bonnefoy.” A short woman with striking green eyes said. Arthur knew she had shoulder length blonde hair tucked under her light blue scrub cab. Her name was Lily, the younger sister of the Chief of Surgery; Vash. Everyone said she rode his coattails and he gave her the job simply because they were siblings. Arthur knew better. She seemed to always be one step ahead of the attending and had performed quite a few surgeries on her own. The girl was a genius.

“Perfect. Since this is a repeat surgery, I'll let you take the reins,” Francis said. He quickly moved to the other side of Alfred. “You have Kirkland as your intern, so make sure you teach.”

“Yes, doctor.” Lily kicked a stepstool to Francis's previous spot and stood with all the confidence she didn't show outside the OR.

“Is everyone ready?” She asked.

Arthur and a few other people nodded. Lily's eyes crinkled above her mask. “Then let's get started. Scalpel.”

¤

Alfred woke with a familiar pain and stiffness going down the length of his chest. He blinked a few times and when the ceiling didn't come into focus, he remembered he didn't have his glasses.

“Al? Are you awake?” His mother's gentle voice was beside him. Alfred felt his body relax. He wasn't dead.

“Yeah,” Alfred croaked out. “Water?”

Peggy spooned some ice chips into Alfred's mouth. The blond closed his eyes again and relished the cool on his throat. When he opened them again, he grabbed his glasses.

“Francis wanted me to get him when you woke up. Just wait here,” Peggy said. He brushed Alfred's hair back and planted a kiss on his forehead, then she was gone.

Alfred rubbed his eyes and picked up the cup of ice chips. He had just put another spoonful in his mouth when Francis, Arthur and Lily walked in. Alfred had known Lily since she was an intern. He had only seen her a few times in the paediatric ward, but she seemed to remember him. Alfred swallowed and grinned. “How was the party? Was I awesome?”

Francis rolled his eyes and grinned. “Why don't you tell him, Lily?”

The small girl blushed, but stepped forward. “Well, the repairs from your last surgery weren't holding up. I removed them-”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Alfred held up a hand. “You did the surgery?”

“Yes, and it was very successful. Depending on how you are feeling in two weeks, you may be able to go home,” Lily concluded.

“That's amazing! Lily! If I would have known you were going to lead, I would have requested to see you before I went under!” Alfred wanted to laugh, but was afraid to hurt his chest. He remembered Lily being hardly able to start an IV. Now she was doing his heart surgeries.

Francis shot Arthur an ‘I told you so’ look, then addressed Alfred. “She did a fantastic job. I hardly had to help.”

Alfred gave a small clap. It made him very tired. “That's great, Lily! Now you can tell everyone you've seen the great heart of Alfred F. Jones.”

Lily laughed just as her pager went off. Francis’s was quick to follow. Arthur's was next.

“Looks like we have to go,” Francis clicked his pager off and patted Alfred's leg. “Someone will be back to check on you in a while, just rest easy.”

Alfred smiled and settled back on his pillows. He noticed they were his from home. His mom must have brought them. She really was the best. “Of course. Go save lives. Mine should be okay for a while.”

With a wave, Francis and Lily were out the door and began jogging to the Emergency Room. Arthur lingered and Alfred smiled quizzically at him.

“I have the next few days off,” Arthur said. “You…” he trailed off and clicked his pager off again. “Just don't die, okay?”

Alfred grinned. “I don't plan on it. Now go, or you'll miss all the good surgeries.”

Arthur gave a small smile and was out the door. Alfred closed his eyes and sank further into the pillows.

“You gave me quite a scare, Al,” Peggy chided. She tucked the sheets more securely around Alfred.

“I'm sorry,” Alfred whispered. His chest ached with a dull burn and he gave a light tap at the morphine button. “Throw that stupid treadmill away.”

Peggy gave a watery laugh and pressed a kiss to Alfred's forehead. “Maybe I'll sell it to pay for all these bills you give me,” she teased.

Alfred grinned. It was small and weak, but it was there. “Love you.”

“I love you too, Alfie,” Peggy whispered. “Get some rest.”

With a final tap to the morphine button, Alfred fell asleep in a sea of emerald eyes and golden hair.


	3. Chapter 3

Making Hearts  
Chapter Three

“Mr. Jones, it's time to change your bandage,” a gentle voice prodded Alfred awake.

Alfred groaned. “Ten more minutes.”

“I wish I could sleep too, but we have things to do,” the voice laughed lightly.

Prying an eye open, Alfred found an intern he didn't know. The man had brunet hair with sparkling fawn eyes. He wore gloves and held a tray with Alfred's fresh bandages.

“I don't know you,” Alfred said groggily.

The man laughed, way too happy for this early in the morning. “I'm Dr. Vargas, but since you're like a celebrity here, you can call me Feliciano.”

“Call me Alfred or Al.”

“Well, Alfred or Al, mind rolling to your back and pulling up your shirt?”

Alfred rolled from his right side to his back and winced slightly at the pain in his chest. He remembered his first surgery when he was just a kid. He had been too scared to sleep because he thought if he moved too much, his chest would burst open and his heart would fall out. Not very comforting to a ten year old. It was his second surgery two years later he was informed he could sleep however he liked as long as it wasn't on his chest.

Feliciano gingerly peeled the bandage off. Alfred rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn as the doctor worked. He didn't bother to put his glasses on since he would be going back to sleep in a few minutes.

“I heard about your condition. It really is awful. I don't know what I would do, not being able to run or work,” Feliciano murmured. He disinfected the incision spot, Alfred flinched weakly at the sting.

“It's alright. I've been like this pretty much my whole life. I don't know anything else,” Alfred replied.

Feliciano frowned. He peeled open the new bandage. “May I ask a personal question?”

“Sure.”

“How do you have sex?” Feliciano asked without so much as a blush.

Alfred let out something between a cough and a laugh. Either way, it made his chest hurt and bleed a little.

“Oh, no. You're bleeding,” Feliciano pouted and dabbed at the blood with a ball of cotton.

“What kind of question was that?” Alfred wasn't upset or anything of the sort. He was merely amused.

“Where I come from, sex is the most blatant way to show your love,” Feliciano said. He placed the new bandage on. “I was wondering how you manage in your condition.”

Alfred smiled sheepishly. “I've never had anyone like that.”

Feliciano paused before taping the bandage into place. “I'm very sorry-”

“Please don't apologize for me being a virgin,” Alfred said with a blush.

Laughing and shaking his head, Feliciano replaced Alfred's pajama top. “No, no, I was felt bad that you've never had someone to love like that.”

“It's kinda hard to date when you can't keep up with them. They wanna go on hikes, to the beach, spend the day at the fair or amusement park. I can't hike, or swim. I can only walk for twenty minutes before I have to sit,” Alfred said. He sighed and adjusted his pillows. “No one wants to date an old man.”

Feliciano frowned. “I'm so sorry, Alfred. Once you get your new heart, I'm sure you'll have to fight the ladies off with a stick.”

Alfred chuckled, then winced. “Thanks, Feliciano.”

“You can call me Feli,” the doctor grinned. “I'll let you sleep now. See ya in a bit.”

Alfred waved and settled back against his pillows. He never had much luck with dating after his first surgery. He had gone out once with Jenny, but she quickly broke it off when Alfred passed out after one ride at the amusement park. It was right after that, Alfred discovered he liked boys too. However, when he couldn't keep up with the play wrestling, concerts and bike riding, Alfred found himself hopping from one potential lover to another. They all made up reasons as to why they couldn't date. They had to move, they didn't have the same feelings, they weren't gay, they were lesbian. Alfred knew it was really because of his heart. He was boring. He was losing weight. He was pale. He wasn't attractive anymore in the hospital bed with tubes coming out of his arm and wires attached to his chest with a long scar.

With a sigh, Alfred rolled gingerly to his side and tried to sleep.

¤

Arthur woke and looked blearily at the clock. 6 a.m.. Panic bolted through him and be frantically kicked his blankets off. He was late for rounds. If Francis didn't kill him, Ludwig sure would. He had his scrub pants and one sneaker on before he remembered he had the day off.

Feeling rather idiotic, Arthur toed off his shoe and stepped out of his pants. He didn't bother to put his pajamas back on and climbed back into bed. Once his heart stopped pounding, he fell back asleep.

He got up again around nine and trudged out of his room. He lived alone, so he didn't bother to get dressed. He opened the fridge and grimaced at the lack of food. He ate most of his meals at the hospital and didn't do much grocery shopping.

Arthur lived in a single story house. The front door opened up to the living room, straight back was the kitchen, separated by a wall. Further back was the bathroom on the right and his bedroom on the left. The end of the call had a closet Arthur used for his nice clothes and shoes. Scrubs had taken over his bedroom closet.

Arthur ran a hand down his face, then back up through his hair. He was starving but didn't want to go grocery shopping. Everything would go bad before he could eat it. He abandoned the fridge and rifled through the cupboard. There was peanut butter, no bread, no jelly. Boxes of macaroni and cheese, no milk, no butter. He finally found a bag of popcorn and threw it in the microwave. That'll do.

A few minutes later, Arthur was munching on popcorn and walking aimlessly around his house. He hadn't had a day off in a while and wasn't sure what to do.

He kicked at a few piles of dirty clothes as he walked. He could clean and do laundry, but that would only occupy him for an hour, maybe two. He stopped in the middle of the living room and looked around. Take-out boxes, fast food wrappers, medical journals, his own notes, and scrubs covered almost every surface.

Yeah, he'll clean. Arthur licked the butter off his fingers and grabbed a laundry basket to throw all his clothes in.

An hour and forty minutes later, Arthur's house was spick and span. He had even dusted and vacuumed to kill even more time.

Arthur sighed and flopped on the couch. He practically lived at the hospital, it was weird being home. It was quiet. No sirens, beeping, yelling, crying, running. It was weird.

Being a doctor, a surgeon, had always been his dream. Ever since he was little, he would dissect his stuffed animals with plastic knives. He even had yarn tied to the animal for IVs. His favorite part was when his ‘patient’ would ‘die’ and he would use his winter gloves to yell ‘CLEAR’ before reviving the animal and parading around the house. His mother found it endearing while his father was rather annoyed by it. His two older brothers teased him about it, but Arthur didn't care.

His interest in medicine first appeared when his grandfather had a heart attack while driving. Arthur's father, being the only son, was with Arthur and his brothers when they had to go to the hospital. They had to wait in the Emergency Room while they figured out what was wrong with Grandpa. Arthur had been entranced with the way everyone moved so smoothly around the room. They looked like super heros. And the guy with a stick poking all the way through his chest was pretty cool. Arthur had been five at the time, but it had always stuck with him.

Ever since his internship, he had to log so many hours in the OR, Emergency Room, Skills Lab and countless other things. He hardly had time off and when he did, he wished he was at the hospital. He could go to the hospital, but Francis, Ludwig or Vash would see him and send him home.

Unless he was visiting someone.

Arthur pinched his bottom lip in thought. He could go see Alfred. He would be somewhat lively today. Heart surgeries took a lot out of the patient, it would be nice to have a friend visit.

But Arthur wasn't his friend.

Arthur frowned at himself. He wasn't Alfred's friend. He was his doctor. That's it.

So why did Arthur's heart jump when Alfred called him pretty? Or why couldn't Arthur stop thinking about Alfred’s warm chest? It was skinny and pale, but all Arthur wanted to do was wrap his arms around Alfred and hold him until all his pain was gone.

Arthur smacked his forehead. He should not be thinking of Alfred, he was in a relationship with Francis. If you could call it that. Arthur really didn't consider having sex in the on-call room a relationship. But he did like Francis. He just didn't think Francis would want a boyfriend. They both worked crazy hours and were sometimes stuck in surgery for a whole twenty-four hours. It wasn't easy to date a surgeon.

Growing frustrated with thinking about his love life, Arthur gathered his books and notes and began to study. He had boards coming up. This test would determine if he became a resident or repeated his internship. He wasn't too worried about it, but going over procedures in his head kept his mind off of two blond males with blue eyes.

¤

Alfred woke by himself around the time Arthur began to think about his love life. One could call it romantic and symbolic, but Alfred was just hungry.

He shoved his glasses on his nose, then reached for the nurse button then hesitated. He hated calling for the nurse unless he was in pain, but he couldn't very well go down the the cafeteria on his own.

With a wince, Alfred pushed the button. He waited about thirty seconds before his door swung open. Luckily, it was the nice older lady nurse. Alfred knew her from pediatrics, her name was Johanna and she kept her gray hair in a short bob with crazy pink highlights. Earrings sparkled up her ears and if you caught her reaching for something, her scrubs revealed several tattoos.

“Johanna!” Alfred said, relieved. “What are you doing out of pediatrics?”

The nurse grinned. “They're short staffed this week and I heard you were here, so i took the shifts,” she said. Johanna crossed the room and tousled Alfred's hair.

“How sweet of you.” Alfred grinned and attempted to smooth his hair. “How are the grandkids?”

“Mavis got her first nose piercing, then caught a cold,” Johanna said. She checked Alfred's bandage, then slid off her stethoscope to check his heart rate.

“Poor thing.” Alfred frowned. “I hope she's okay.”

“Just a slight infection, but she's all good now.” Johanna put her things away then smiled at Alfred. “I imagine you're hungry?”

Alfred grinned sheepishly. “Yeah.”

“What can I get for you?”

“Probably nothing I want since I just had surgery,” Alfred pouted. “Just get whatever Francis would want me to eat.”

Johanna laughed. “I'm sure I'll find something suitable to your liking.”

“Thank you,” Alfred said. With a pat to his cheek Johanna was out the door.

Alfred settled back against his pillows. His thumb found the morphine button, but he quickly dropped it. He had been in the hospital long enough to know what these sort of drugs did to a person.

He rubbed his face, pushing his glasses askew. He fixed them then picked up his phone. His mom had plugged it in the night before. He sent her a quick text to let her know he was alive. Alfred didn't expect an answer. Peggy was dedicated to her work as a counselor for troubled teens. She would merely read Alfred’s message and reply during appointment changes or at lunch.

Opening his social media, Alfred scrolled absently. He would rather be outside, but that was forbidden for the time being. While he glanced at the articles and posts of his short list of friends, Alfred's mind wandered to his doctors.

With a slight smirk, Alfred quickly Facebook-stalked Francis. He didn't find much of anything, Francis was probably too busy to update his page. However, Alfred found the doctor's photos and found a very interesting one.

Someone else had taken the picture. It was captioned that it was the Christmas party and had Francis and Arthur standing next to each other. They were both smiling and Alfred couldn't help but notice the hand on Arthur's hip. But that's not what made it interesting. Arthur's name floated next to his ear. He also had a Facebook page.

Alfred tapped the name with his finger, not feeling a tad bit guilty. Just before Alfred could select Arthur's photos, Johanna returned. He quickly locked the screen.

“Toast, bacon, eggs, orange juice and a cup of medicine,” Johanna used her elbow to push the table to Alfred's chest before placing the cafeteria tray in front of him.

“That's great, thank you!” Alfred used a small remote to lift the bed to a more upright position before taking a large bite of toast.

“I'll be in to check on you later,” Johanna slapped a pile of napkins on Alfreds table and closed to door behind her. 

Alfred only hoped she would give him enough time to snoop.


	4. Chapter 4

Making Hearts  
Chapter Four

Alfred felt bad. Actually, no he didn't.

While scrolling through Arthur's Facebook, he went through his pictures (of course), and found a rather hilarious photo of Arthur with lined eyes, green hair, tongue hanging out (pierced with a black stud) and his hand thrown up with rock and roll fingers. He was even wearing a band shirt.

Alfred had about choked on his toast when he stumbled upon the picture. Arthur had obviously taken it himself and edited it to have it dark around the edges and make his green hair more vibrant. It was awesome.

Alfred continued to scroll through the photos. Arthur eventually dropped the piercings, crazy hair and heavily filtered pictures. They had evolved into him in scrubs. In a rather cute photo of him grinning at the camera, Arthur was displaying his ID card for the hospital. Alfred touched the screen to read the caption. Arthur had excitedly declared that it was his first day of his internship.

Alfred smiled and felt his heart do a little jump. He paused and made sure he wasn't having another attack. Nope, it was just he had a crush on his doctor. Alfred groaned and quickly locked his phone. He was a terrible person. He was stalking the cute doctor and getting the hots for him.

He put his phone on the bedside table and finished his breakfast. He wished his mom had brought him a book or something, he couldn't spend all day on Facebook.

Johanna came and took the tray away. Alfred asked if he could borrow a book or something. She came back ten minutes later with Harry Potter. Alfred gladly dug into it. Feliciano checked in on him again, chattering away about his other patients. Alfred's mother called during her lunch break, apologizing for not being there. Alfred quickly dismissed her, saying work was more important than sitting around at the hospital all day, he was fine. Johanna brought him lunch ten minutes after he hung up with his mother. A turkey sandwich, an apple and a carton of chocolate milk. It reminded Alfred of grade school lunches.

The only exciting thing to happen to him that day was Francis stopping by. He even brought jello. The doctor sat by Alfred’s feet and offered him a green and red cup. Alfred snagged the red and peeled off the foil.

“Are you hiding from someone or something?” Alfred asked as he licked the lid.

Francis winced and handed Alfred a spoon. “How could you tell?”

“You brought me food,” Alfred grinned. Francis would visit him in the pediatric unit when he was overwhelmed with work or hiding from annoying interns. Alfred liked the company despite their ten-year age difference. And he usually brought snacks so Alfred didn't complain about sharing his bed for a while. Not that he would ever complain about Francis hanging out, but it was nice to have a surprise treat. Even if it was sometimes gross health food.

With a smile, Francis stripped his spoon from the film of plastic. “Vargas, he's so...happy, not to mention the singing that he's doing in surgery. It's a wonder how Beilschmidt stands him.”

“Which one is Vargas?” Alfred asked.

“Feliciano. He probably told you to call him Feli.”

Alfred nodded. “Yup. I like him. You guys need a little sunshine in your drab hospital life.”

Francis rolled his eyes. “He's a little too sunny if you ask me. Sometimes people need to have a somber attitude.”

“Like Arthur?” Alfred asked without a thought.

“How did you know I was thinking of Arthur?”

Alfred shoveled a large bite in his mouth and quickly thought of something. He didn't know Francis was thinking about Arthur, but Alfred was. Somber and serious had described Arthur near perfectly.

He swallowed thickly and shrugged. “He just seemed like the serious type you were talking about.”

Francis nodded slowly. He licked his spoon and threw it away. “Well, I should get going. Lives to save and all.”

Alfred finished off his cup and Francis took it to throw away. “Thanks for the snack, don't stress yourself out.”

“I'll try not to,” Francis said. He smiled and left Alfred's room. He walked slowly to his post-operation appointment. Alfred had gotten a little weird at the mention of Arthur. Francis wasn't sure if it was because Alfred liked Arthur, or that Alfred knew about them.

Francis ran a hand through his hair and dismissed both thoughts. That was just absurd. Alfred couldn't possibly like Arthur, or know about their secret.

With a shake of his head, Francis checked his watch. He had an hour or so until he was off. He pulled out his phone and texted a sultry message to Arthur. It wasn't very often they had a chance to have sex outside of the hospital, and Francis wasn't going to waste it.

¤

Arthur was woken from his nap by his phone. He lifted his head from his coffee table, and looked blearily around for his phone. Books and papers were strewn around him, hiding the damned thing. He rubbed his face and slid his hand around the pile of medical papers until he found it. He swiped the screen open and blinked a few times before he could read the message he got.

Heat crept up his face when he saw it was from Francis. A few moments later he received a photo. It wasn't a selfie.

Now feeling uncomfortably warm under the collar, Arthur sent a quick message saying he'll be at Francis's flat in about an hour. Then, he ran to the bathroom for a quick shower.

Arthur’s cab arrived at Francis’s place just as he was getting out of his own silver Prius. Arthur paid the cabbie and jogged to Francis's side.

“Are you on call?” he asked as he got closer.

“Nope, the other guy is,” Francis said with a grin and a hand on Arthur's ass.

Arthur slid his arms around Francis's waist. “Perfect.”

Francis was rough with him. Not that he didn't mind, it was just different to their carefully concealed sex at the hospital. After Francis had come on his back, Arthur felt a dull ache already take over his abdomen and hips. Francis wiped him up and he rolled over, relieving some of the pressure.

“Do you want a drink?” Francis asked. He slid into a silk robe and pulled his sweaty hair up in a ponytail.

Arthur nodded. “Whatever you have is fine.”

Francis left the room. Most people smoke after sex, but Arthur had seen enough patients die of lung cancer in his short time as a doctor to swear it off forever. He drank instead. In moderation. Sometimes.

When Francis came back Arthur had readjusted the pillows so they could lean comfortably against the bed frame. The sheets pooled in his lap and his hair was sticking up in a million ways. Francis smiled rather fondly and handed Arthur his glass.

After a few silent moments of sipping the drink, Francis spoke. “I had an interesting conversation with Alfred today.”

Arthur hesitated a brief moment, his glass almost to his lips. “Oh?”

“Yeah, I think he has a bit of a crush on you,” Francis said with a grin.

“Sod off, asshole,” Arthur said. He took a large swig of wine.

Francis laughed. “Go easy on him. He's spent half his life in the hospital. Maybe him having a crush on you is a good thing.”

“It's not that he has a crush on me. It's that you think it's funny,” Arthur said. He was never the guy people had crushes on. Usually it was the other way around. It was weird to think someone could actually like him like that.

“Alfred has had a crush on almost every intern and resident. Try not to take it personally,” Francis said. Arthur couldn't help but pick up on the slight smugness in his voice.

“Do you think it's weird someone has romantic feelings for me?”

Francis rolled his eyes. “Please. Alfred is a child. He falls for everyone. I told you that.”

“But why is it strange for him to like me.”

Finally understanding what Arthur was getting at, Francis let out a small ‘oooh,’ then said: “Because you're nothing special. Just an intern that happens to be the best looking this year. Wait until your residency, then you'll see that Alfred doesn't like you, just the thought of dating a doctor. He falls for an intern every time he comes in.”

Arthur froze for a full thirty seconds. Then, he slammed his glass on the bedside table. Red wine sloshed over his hand while Francis jumped and his mouth dropped open in shock.

“What are you doing?” Francis practically screeched. Wine splashed across the sheets and spilt to the floor.

Arthur wiped his wine covered hand on the white, expensive, silk sheets. He stood and began to dress. “I don't have to sit here and be mocked by you.”

“What are you on about? I was just telling you the truth!” Francis stood and yanked the bedclothes off.

“It may be true that Alfred will not like me in a week, but it is not true that I am so undesirable that Alfred cannot even like me!” Arthur snapped as he yanked on his trousers.

Francis rolled his eyes. “Will you get over yourself? You're getting upset over a simple truth!”

Arthur pulled his shirt down, flipped Francis the bird and left the room. He was too angry to say much of anything else.

“So you spill wine and don't even help to clean it up? Very mature, Arthur!” Francis yelled at his back.

“Shove it up your ass!” Arthur shouted up the stairs. He was about to slam the door closed, but thought it would be another punch in the gut to make Francis close it while he was trying to clean his sheets. He left the door wide opened and pulled out his phone to call Feliciano.

He answered after three rings. “Arthur? Isn't it your day off?”

“Yeah. Want to go drinking?” Arthur stormed down the sidewalk. His house was a good ten miles away. The bar was five miles after that.

“I'm on call but I'll hang out with you,” Feliciano said hesitantly. “Is everything alright?”

“No. How soon can you get to Pepper’s?” That was his favorite bar. A young man ran it with his grandfather, and they served high point stuff.

“Uhm, about fifteen minutes?” Feliciano said. Arthur heard the rustle of fabric.

“Alright. I'll see you then.”

“Okay. Be careful, Arthur,” Feliciano said.

Arthur grunted and hung up the phone. He then called for a cab to pick him up. He waited in sullen silence. His feelings were hurt and when his feelings got hurt, he drank. He was never an alcoholic, but he did get drunk quite often when he was younger.

His cab came and he slid into the backseat. He mumbled the address before slumping down. He couldn't believe Francis said that about him. Was he so unattractive he couldn't even win over a patient who practically lived at the hospital?

Not that he wanted to date Alfred. That would be inappropriate. He was just cute and a little funny. There was no way he could like Alfred that way. It would go against everything he stood for as a doctor. And if he did like Alfred, he wouldn't be allowed on his case and he would never see him.

Doctors with any relation to the patients were not allowed to work with them. There were too many incidents of the doctors going to extreme measures to help or the patient would make ridiculous requests since the doctor was family, friend, or lover. Too many times the patient did not make it and the doctor would blame themselves. It was a harsh rule, especially since patients were comfortable around people they knew, but it was a necessary.

When the taxi arrived to the bar, Arthur handed over his tab and climbed out. Feliciano was waiting outside wearing a light jacket. Arthur jogged over and stood silently in front of his friend, unsure of what to say. At the sad look on his face, Feliciano wrapped him up in a hug. Arthur felt tears burning the back of his eyes. Feliciano always knew what he needed.

“What happened?” Feliciano asked as he stepped back.

Arthur shook his head, not sure if he was drunk enough to talk about it yet. They went inside and Feliciano lead Arthur to the bar, who sat glumly on a stool.

Feliciano slid in beside him. He picked at the bowl of peanuts while Arthur ordered. Since Feliciano was on-call, he had a sods, Arthur, however, got through five drinks before he was hunched over and griping out his problems.

“I jus...dun know why...I can't find anyone,” Arthur slurred.

“You'll find someone, Arthur. Francis just wasn't it,” Feliciano tried to console his friend.

“But what if he was!” Arthur wailed. “And...and what if I ruined it?”

“No, no, no, Arthur,” Feliciano said. He grabbed Arthur by the arms. “Francis was not your person.”

“But, Feli,” Arthur hiccuped. “How do you know?”

“Because if Francis was meant for you, he wouldn't make you feel this way,” Feliciano said gently.

Arthur stared at him for a full thirty seconds before he broke down and cried into his shoulder.


	5. Chapter 5

Making Hearts  
Chapter Five

Alfred looked up from his phone when he heard the door open. Arthur came trudging in, his scrubs hanging loosely from his frame, his hair a mess, and dark circles under his eyes.

Alfred gave him a small smile. “Rough night?”

Arthur grinned sheepishly. “How could you tell?”

“You look like my mom after I have surgery,” Alfred said. He sat up so Arthur could do a quick exam. His chest didn't hurt as badly today and he was hoping for the all-clear to go home.

“Your mother gets drunk when you go in for surgery?” Arthur teased as he pressed the cold stethoscope to Alfred's chest.

“No, she doesn't drink. She just can't sleep when I go in she says. You look like you didn't sleep well,” Alfred said. He pressed his lips together. He was desperate to ask Arthur about his punk days, but didn't want him to know he had stalked the doctor.

“You're right, I didn't,” Arthur said softly. He looked Alfred over and jotted some notes on his file. “I think Dr. Bonnefoy will send you home today. He just needs to come in and make sure nothing is abnormal.”

“Alright. Do you know when he'll be here?” Alfred adjusted his pajamas and leaned back against his pillows.

Arthur glanced at his watch. “He's in surgery now. Maybe an hour or two.”

“Okay,” Alfred said. Arthur smiled weakly and turned to leave. “Wait.”

“Yes?” Arthur looked over his shoulder.

“Would you like some aspirin? My mom has some you can have. I'm sure she won't mind.”

Arthur hesitated, then smiled. He went back to Alfred's side. “I would love some. This headache is enough to put me down for the count.”

Alfred grinned and leaned over the edge of his bed. “She stashes a lot of stuff here,” he said. He opened the bedside table drawer. Arthur peered in and saw an array of snacks, plastic silverware, tissues, medication bottles and batteries of various sizes. “If you ever need anything feel free to take it.”

“She does this each time you come to the hospital?” Arthur asked. He rifled through the drawer, grabbed an aspirin bottle and, on a second thought, snagged a granola bar.

“Yeah. For her sake really. When she spends the night,” Alfred said. “And she's always saying that Francis is trying to starve me when he gives me those ‘heart heart healthy’ meals.” 

“Well, tell her I said thanks,” Arthur ripped open the bar and took a large bite.

“I will,” Alfred smiled. “Will you discharge me?”

“No. Francis will sign you off and Johanna will help you out,” said Arthur around a mouthful.

“Oh, then I guess this is goodbye,” Alfred said.

Arthur glanced at Alfred. He smirked. “With your track record, it's more like ‘see ya later, alligator.’”

Alfred laughed. “After a while, crocodile.”

With another thanks, Arthur went to the door. He took a step out before turning back to Alfred. “Not to sound rude, but I hope I don't see you again in a hospital.”

“No, no. I'm with you on that,” Alfred grinned. “I'll take care of myself.”

“Good,” Arthur said. He smiled and closed the door behind him.

*

Alfred left the hospital in a flurry goodbyes and hugs. He waved at Francis from across the lobby. He didn't see Arthur.

Peggy pushed him outside in the mandatory wheelchair. He had a vase full of flowers in his lap and a fresh bag of medication hanging off the handle of his chair while Peggy had a backpack full of his clothes, snacks and phone charger.

His mom helped him into the car. Johanna took the wheelchair from Peggy. They hugged before Johanna leaned in to talk to Alfred.

“I'd say see ya soon, but if I do, I'll kick your butt.”

Alfred laughed. “I'll try to keep out of here.”

“Take care, kid,” she patted his shoulder and shut the car door.

Alfred waved at the departing crowd as his mother drove out of the parking lot. Once they were on the road, Alfred leaned back and sighed. He loved the hospital staff but was so relieved when he got to go home.

“Tired?” his mom asked.

“A tad. But I don't want to sleep. I'll be up all night. Besides, I want to see Gramps.”

Peggy smiled and switched lanes to get on the freeway. “He's excited to see you, too. He had Grandma make pie.”

“Sweet,” Alfred grinned. Grandma made the best pie.

Alfred and Norah Jones were Peggy's parents. Her in-laws had died with her husband. Her parents had come to live with their daughter and her family when little Alfred got sick. They moved out after Alfred's first surgery was a success, but came back when Alfred's (the younger) dad and other grandparents died in a train accident. So Gramps and Grandma sold their house and kept watch on Alfred while Peggy was at work.

It worked out really well. Gramps had high cholesterol and had a heart attack a few years back, so when Alfred was assigned to walk a mile a day and Grandma made Gramps walk, they walked together. Around the block four times with a break in the middle. It ended up being about a mile, but if the weather was nice they went around an extra time. Hot days they would walk around once or twice before giving up, their fragile hearts unable to take the heat. When they took a break, it usually consisted off a sweet or two and an episode of Family Feud, but they got their walks in.

Grandma helped cook and clean when Peggy was at work and Alfred and Gramps were too worn out to help. Grandma always seemed ready to take care of things around the house. She was on top of every medical issue with her boys and often, jokingly, blamed Gramps for Alfred's poor health. “Some conditions are inherited!” she would say. Yet, hers and Peggy's health never failed. They credited their health to the nasty kale smoothie she drank with her daughter each morning. Alfred had tried it before and turned as green as the smoothie. Gramps had hooted with laughter until Grandma made him try some too.

Peggy pulled into their neighborhood. A lot of people were outside. It was Saturday, the sun was shining and Alfred could hear the tinkle of the ice cream truck about a block away. He felt tears prick his eyes as he watched the children play. That had been him for a short while, now he was stuck inside.

“Home, sweet home,” his mother said as she slowed the car into the garage.

The door that lead to the kitchen swung open and Grandma came tottering down the steps. “Alfred!” she cried over the rumbling of the closing garage door.

Alfred swung his door open. “Hey, Grandma. How’ve you been?”

“Oh, just wonderful, Al. We got the place all cleaned up for you. Gramps is making his ribs and I do believe Peggy Sue is whipping up some mashed potatoes while I finish your pie!” Grandma took Alfred's luggage while Peggy helped him from the car.

“Mom, I told you no to the big dinner. It won't do anything but hurt Alfred in his condition. Were having some light soup and pie. That's it,” Peggy said. It was nice having the help, but doting grandparents were a handful.

“One meal is not going to kill him, Peggy Sue,” Grandma chided.

“How about a healthy salad instead of potatoes?” Alfred suggested. He made it to the kitchen before he slumped down at the table.

“Good idea, Al,” Peggy said. She helped Grandma put Alfred's things away.

Gramps came shuffling in from the backyard. He wore a faded t-shirt, khaki shorts and socks with those sandals Alfred saw teenage girls wearing. Jesus sandals is what he thought they were called.

“Alfred! How's the big man?” Gramps clapped Alfred on the back, never failing to knock the wind out him.

“I'm fine, Gramps. Just a little tired,” Alfred said. He acted like he wasn't struggling for his next breath until Gramps turned away from him.

“Nothing a beer can't fix!” Gramps made his way to the fridge. “Whaddya say! Put a little hair on your chest!”

Alfred glanced at his mom. As he expected, Peggy was gearing up for another protest.

“Er, no thanks, Gramps. Doctors orders are juice and water for a month or so,” Alfred said before his mom could explode.

“Doctors don't know nothing! Sayin’ we need to walk as much as we do! I say that what keeps a young man like me and you healthy, Alfred, is a nice cold beer and half-a-rack of ribs!” Gramps slammed a beer in front of Alfred.

Peggy dragged a hand down her tired face and sat beside her son. Alfred kept a pleasant smile on his face until Gramps went out back to slather more sauce on the ribs. Grandma puttered around Alfred.

“You always look so pale when you get home. Are you sure those doctors are helping you?” she chided.

“Yes, Grandma. Dr. Bonnefoy is the best doctor on the West Coast,” Alfred said. He stood and placed the beer back in the fridge. He snagged a water bottle before sitting back down, panting slightly.

“Are you up for dinner, Al?” Peggy asked. She was easy-going about it, but Alfred could hear the worrying undertone.

“Yeah. I'm okay. But maybe a small plate,” Alfred said. He cleared his throat and ran his hands through his hair, sending a wild cowlick on the loose.

Gramps came back in, a plate piled high with ribs. Grandma blessed the meal, though Alfred had lost faith in God a while ago (it was hard to believe God loved you, yet gave you the worst heart on the planet. So, Alfred had stopped going to church and gave his bible to his mother. She was a tad upset, but understood completely), and they ate.

Alfred picked at his meal and thought longingly about his medication. They made him sleep and took the pain away. They helped him breathed. He was ready to take a handful.

Grandma and Gramps kept trying to stack more food on Alfred's plate. He refused politely, but the kept on pushing. Peggy had remained quiet the whole time until Gramps said something that made her leap from her seat.

“It comes from your dad's side, Al. He was always weak. Making Peggy Sue work while he stayed home. That's a woman's job.”

Peggy’s chair hit the floor. The table was silent as everyone stared at her. “He stayed home to watch Alfred so I could go to school. If I didn't, where would we be now if I didn't have my job? On the streets drowning in Alfred's medical bills!”

“Mom,” Alfred said softly. Peggy looked at him from the corner of her eye. Then, with a sob, she left the kitchen and went to her room.

Gramps huffed and shoved another rib into his mouth. “Maybe if she let the man work, your dad would still be here.”

Anger spiked in Alfred's chest. It was dangerous for him to get too excited, but he couldn't help it tonight. “Mom wanted to help people. She makes a lot of money doing what she does. Dad was just a businessman. He didn't make half of what Mom makes now.”

His grandparents were silent. Alfred cleared his throat and stood. “Excuse me,” he said and followed his mother.

Peggy was in her room. It was mostly a woman's room, but you could still see traces of a man living there. A cologne bottle on the dresser, change and a few crumpled bills in an ashtray next to a battered silver watch. Stuff his mother couldn't get rid of.

Alfred knocked on her open door. His mother sat with his back to him, facing the window.

“Are you okay?”

Peggy sighed and dug her hands into hair the same shade as Alfreds. “It's just too much sometimes.”

Alfred didn't know what to say. Should he say he was sorry because he had so many medical bills? Or because he was an adult and still living at home? Or maybe because Gramps was old-fashioned and could be a little shit?

So, he stood by the door, silent.

His mother dropped her hands into her lap. “I just wish you would have been healthy. Then none of this would have happened.”

Alfred felt a slight sting at the words. He left Peggy’s room and retreated to his own. It wasn't his fault he had a sucky heart. It's not like he chose to be this way. If it was anyone's fault, it was his pediatric doctor's. She should have caught his heart problem back when he was still healthy (well, before shit hit the fan). She should have told him to take it easy, not to over do it from the beginning. Then he wouldn't have played football and needed to go to the hospital every time he ran a bit too long, too fast.

Alfred closed his door behind him. With a heavy sigh, he went to his nightstand. Peggy and Grandma had left his pills and a bottle of water there. He read the new bottle carefully. Francis had upped his medication. It was a relief was well as a curse. Relief, because he wouldn't be in so much pain. Curse, because more medicine meant he wasn't getting better.

He swallowed his handful of pills and changed his clothes. Though he was already wearing sweats, he wanted to get the hospital smell off him. He was too tired to shower and couldn't take a relaxing bath. The surgical site and the probability of the hot water making him pass out made him a perfect candidate for drowning. And how awful would it be to have someone find him naked? He's already been exposed enough, thank you.

Alfred shut off his light and climbed into bed. He could hear the tv on downstairs. Gramps was watching Jeopardy and Grandma was calling the answers from the kitchen as she cleaned up dinner.

With a sigh, he rolled over, his back to the door and face to the wall. He liked sleeping next to the wall. It was usually cool and he would press his hot legs and feet against it. And hospital beds weren't against a wall. It helped remind him he was home, especially when he woke up in the middle of the night unable to breath.

Alfred closed his eyes. Maybe in the morning he would go down to the rec center and walk the track there. Gramps wouldn't come along, said he hated the smell and noise of children (though kids were only there after school and tomorrow was a school day). He hated to leave Gramps to walk on his own, but Alfred just needed some alone time. He had been surrounded by doctors awake and asleep for the better half of a month. And the rec center was in town. Close to the hospital. He hoped he wouldn't need to go back so soon, but it was comforting to know an ambulance was less than ten minutes away, should he collapse.

And maybe, just maybe, he would be able to make a friend or two. He missed most of high school and graduated thanks to online classes and tutors that came to his hospital room. He had wanted to go to college but the strict deadlines wouldn't fit with his surgeries and recovery times. He didn't talk to any of the nurses or doctors outside the hospital, his mother wasn't really someone to hang out with, same with his grandparents.

Even though Alfred had dozens of people, at home and in the hospital, that cared for his well being, he couldn't help but feel just a tad lonely.


End file.
